


Not my sodding area!

by UnrelentingHost



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry Sherlock, Love Confession, M/M, Mentioned Irene Adler, Text alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9809270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrelentingHost/pseuds/UnrelentingHost
Summary: Sherlock finally has enough of John trying to set him up with Irene Adler.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is short and sort of cracky, but I wanted to write it anyway.

“What was that?”

“A text, John.”

John folded his arms and looked at Sherlock who was sprawled on the sofa in his impeccable suit.

“I know. Wanna tell me what it's about?” John tried to make his voice sound soft. Somehow, it didn't work.

Sherlock opened one eye to glare at him. “I don't know. I haven't looked at it, have I?”

“So, you've been talking to her, then?”

“Not really.”

John took a few steps towards the sofa before he could stop himself. Then he stood there, in the middle of the sitting room, like an inappropriately placed statue. He wanted to ask, but couldn't force the words out. Sherlock saved him eventually.

“John, no I haven't been talking to her. Yes, she's been texting me now and again. No, I don't intend to answer, or for that matter, even look at her text.” All of this was delivered in a tired drawl accompanied by lazy gestures of one hand.

“Sherl-, god damn it. Why don't you just-”, John gave himself a moment to arrange his thoughts. “Why are you so determined to be alone?”.

“I'm not alone”.

“That's not what I meant, Sherlock, and you know it!” At this, Sherlock opened both eyes and pointedly stared at him. John sagged a little, and returned to his chair. After a quiet moment, he murmured: “I could help you, you know. You'd just have to ask.” Because he would. Sherlock was obviously not experienced and just needed a little help. Irene was rather a handful after all. He glanced towards Sherlock and suddenly his breath was stuck in his chest. Sherlock had sat up and was looking at John with such disbelief carved in his features that John had to pinch his arm to check whether he was dreaming or not. Sherlock never looked like this.

“John,” he said slowly, “I will say this one more time, and you know how I hate repeating myself, I am not interested in talking with Irene Adler”. Sherlock underlined his words by leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin.

“Why not?” John spat out, half giggling, half concerned.

“I know you are an idiot, John, but this is taking it a step too far”.

“No, Sherlock, really? Why. The. Hell. Not?” John was getting tired of this game.

“I'm not interested.”

“Yes, you are!”

“Women are not my area, I've told you this.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, but John had stopped seeing the humour in this situation.

“I know, Mr. Married-To-My-Work. But why don't you just try? See where it goes?”

“Oh, my god, John! You really aren't pulling my leg?” Sherlock stood up, pacing the room.

“I'm being serious, Sherlock. You can't run away from your feelings forever.” This made Sherlock stop dead in his tracks. He turned slowly towards John.

“Okay, John. Let me spell this out for you. First of all, Irene is married. To Kate. Her old assistant.”

“But-”

“Shut up, I'm not finished.”

John resigned and leaned back in his chair, listening.

“Second, sure, I might've been running away from my feelings, but I'm not the only one. Pointing that out is extremely hypocritical of you. Shut up, John. I'm getting to my point. Third, and this is the important bit, and I don't understand how this hasn't been obvious all these years but, I'm gay, John. Like, really gay. If you'd ask anyone who's ever met me, they'd say I was camp. I thought you'd been aware of my sexual orientation since that first night at Angelo's when I explicitly told you that women weren't my area but that I didn't have a boyfriend at the moment. Honestly, John, I have a huge kink for men in uniform and I haven't exactly been hiding it. Have you even seen my stack of army magazines. They're right there, behind you, on the shelf.”

Sherlock finally stopped for breath. John gaped at him. “And now that we're actually talking about this, John, I might as well just go ahead and say this.” He took a deep breath. “John, I'm in love with you, and have been for a long time. I didn't say anything, because I was waiting for you to process and admit your own feelings towards me to yourself. Yes, I've been aware, and the waiting has been excruciating, John. I would've been able to hold out if you could've just shut up about Irene Adler for one sodding minute.”

John couldn't believe it. Gay? In love? Waiting? He-

“You knew?” John managed after a few minutes of silence.

“Of course I knew,” Sherlock answered softly. He was looking down at John with an exasperated but fond expression.

“But... I... Jesus!” John was hyperventilating. This wasn't happening. This was impossible. This was-

“John, look at me,” Sherlock crouched down next to John's chair and put a hand on his knee, “it's okay.”

And it was, because the next moment, John had thrown himself at Sherlock and snogged him senseless.

 


End file.
